Gloves, hats and boots were laid out in the kitchen. Norma’s police cape and hat were in readiness for Julia. The hours ticked by slowly, every minute seeming to take half an hour, and Connie believed the hands of the clock were not moving, she’d looked at them so many times.
Dusk came, and Dolly asked if anyone felt hungry. Nobody did. They were still quietly going about their tasks, checking and double-checking everything.
‘Keys are in the same place at the stable,’ Connie said, sitting down. She kept coughing as if she had a tickle in her throat and her hands felt icy cold with nerves.
Mike parked the car and, wearing a black polo-necked sweater, black ski pants and sneakers, a black woollen hat, eased the old rowing boat silently into the water. He had a fishing rod and a bag with him, nothing else. He rowed across the lake to the opposite side. He saw no one, heard not a sound. The lake was black, the bridge in darkness, lit only by the flash of the signals as a train passed across and on into the distance. He tied up the boat alongside the small wooden jetty and crossed to the anchored speedboat. He pulled back the canopy and climbed inside, checking the ignition and wiring. That accomplished, he went into the woods and searched for the lights. His gloves were sodden but he didn’t remove them. He had to pull away the bracken and twigs hiding the gear and he carried each item to the end of the jetty, where he set up the high-powered spotlight. The silence was unnerving, nothing moved and the lake remained still and dark. He could not risk testing the spotlight, just hoped to God it would work. If it didn’t, there was nothing he could do about it.
By nine thirty, the women were anxiously waiting for the time to pass. They didn’t speak but the atmosphere was very tense. Connie continued to clear her throat until Gloria said she should have a drink of water as it was getting on her nerves.
‘I’m sorry.’
That’s all right, love. Just a sip, mind — remember what I said about you drinking.’ Dolly was reading a magazine.
‘I hope we can trust him,’ Ester said for the umpteenth time. Dolly ignored her but she wasn’t really seeing any of the magazine pages of knit-yourself-a-bolero or the new-fashioned beachwear. She knew Mike had a hell of a lot to lose: two kids, a wife and a future, to put it plainly, but she didn’t bother saying anything to Ester. She’d said it before and knew it was just Ester’s nerves talking.
Gloria crossed and uncrossed her legs, just as she had for the last half-hour. They were at breaking point.
‘Time to get dressed,’ Julia said, and walked out. Connie sprang up and Dolly tossed aside the magazine.
‘We’ve got awhile yet, Connie, just relax.’
Julia pulled on her boots, a thick sweater over her shirt and began to do up the big rain cape. Like an omen, there was a sudden roll of thunder.
‘Oh, shit,’ Ester said, running to the window. ‘It’s gonna rain.’
‘Never mind the rain,’ Dolly said calmly. ‘If it’s raining the cops won’t hang around.’
‘If there’s a storm the horses will freak,’ Julia said as she picked up Norma’s police hat. ‘If the thunder makes them edgy, pull the reins in tight,’ she said, putting on the hat, and walking to the kitchen door.
‘Where are you going?’ Ester said sharply.
‘Just to take a leak,’ Julia said, slipping out.
‘You’ve already been,’ Ester said, following.
‘Let her go,’ Dolly said quietly, and Ester turned back, drew Dolly aside.
She whispered, ‘She’ll be snorting coke.’
‘I know, but if she needs it to straighten out, then let her do it.’ Dolly ignored the other women’s gasps, and looked out of the window. ‘It’s coming down hard, the ground will be slippery.’
‘Oh. Christ,’ Connie said, panting with nerves.
Dolly opened a bottle of Scotch and got down some mugs. ‘For those that need a bit of bottle.’
Upstairs Julia knocked back half a tumbler of vodka and then snorted two thick lines of coke, the last of it, but, then, this might be her last night. She stared at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. She looked huge in the big cape and boots, and she put on the hat, pulling it down low over her face, tucking in her hair. She had a black scarf round her neck, and she tested that it was loose round the front, ready to ease over her face. She looked at her reflection for a long time and then smiled. She was confident, and as she held out her hand in front of her, it was steady — even if her head wasn’t.
Julia got back as the women began pulling on their boots. No one spoke. She passed through the kitchen and a roll of thunder heralded her opening the back door, which still caught a bit from the damage of the police raid, and she yanked it hard. They could see the rain coming down in a sheet outside.
‘Well, take care. Hold the reins in tight, make them know who’s boss, especially over the jumps.’
They nodded, and Ester went over and reached up to kiss her face. ‘Take care, Julia, for chrissakes. Take care on that live rail.’
Julia smiled. ‘It’s Helen that’s got to take care. I don’t want her thrown up into a tree like that dog Connie told us about.’
Connie moaned softly. She was chalk-white but at least she’d stopped coughing. One good belt of Scotch had stopped that.
‘See you later.’ Julia went into the stable to saddle up Helen. She was the only one not to have her hooves clad as Julia would not use any road. She was to head to the far side of the bridge over fields and cross far along the line from their level crossing to ride back to the bridge. They all had their coats on when they heard Julia moving out. The clock registered ten thirty.
Mike blew into his gloves. His hands were freezing and he was sodden from the downpour. A bolt of lightning had lit up the bridge and lake for a second and he just hoped to God it had not lit him. There was still no sign of a living soul.
The convoy was halfway to its destination. The heavy rain did not slow it down and the armoured security wagon was cushioned between two police cars as it continued towards the station.
Colin was at the wheel, maintaining radio contact between all three vehicles. The empty mail-train left Marylebone station. At first they were told to stand by and wait as the engine was still playing up, even after a complete service, but the problem ceased as soon as they gained speed. The carriage to be used for the collection of the mail-bags was at the centre of the four-carriaged train. It looked like an ordinary passenger train except for the blacked-out windows. The three guards sat inside playing cards, a good hour to go before they picked up the money bags. They were relaxed and casual.
‘I’ll be glad when tonight’s over. I hope to God they don’t make this a regular thing, I hate getting home this late. Anyone know the next route they’re gonna take?’
‘No one does.’
‘Bloody train’s clapped out. You’d think carrying this much dough they’d have some kind of high-powered armour-plated one, wouldn’t you?’
The rain splattered on to the carriage windows. ‘Your deal, mate, and let’s hope this doesn’t get into a fuckin’ storm, we’ll be soaked.’
‘I won’t. I’m not moving out. Let the security blokes carry the gear in. Right, ace’s wild, this one’s dealer’s choice.’
His two friends groaned as the train continued down the tracks, unimpeded by any other. There was an ominous distant roll of thunder.